


Memory

by write_your_way_out



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 18:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_your_way_out/pseuds/write_your_way_out
Summary: Suggested by my Tumblr mutual @slutttysurveycorps "A reincarnation AU where only Eren remembers."





	Memory

There was something wrong with him. 

Was he going crazy? Eren clung to the sides of his notebook, pressing against the hallway walls. He wanted to stay as far away from the crowds as possible. When he was in crowds, especially here, strange things started to happen. 

Was it something he ate? Mushrooms could cause hallucinations, couldn’t they? Or was he tired? That could cause him to see things too. Was it an overactive imagination? A daydream? Or was there something more sinister sitting beneath his skin?

High school was supposed to be fun. Friends were supposed to make you laugh and smile, not cry out in fear. But even just catching a glimpse of someone in the halls sent him spiraling down a path of ominous visions and sounds. 

Sometimes he could ignore them. Other times, like now, they were so strong he had to leave class. Eren paced down the corridor. His thoughts were muddled, like a toddler mixed ten colors of Play-Doh together. Though he tried to sort through them, he might as well sifted through twenty shades of sand. 

“Eren!” 

He looked up. Sitting on the floor, back propped against the wall, Marco smiled and waved. “I didn’t know this was your off block.”

“It isn’t,” Eren replied. He didn’t mean to be rude, but the way Marco sat had triggered another memory. He could see both worlds at once, the one in front of him, where Marco sat unfulfilled with his school supplies spread out in front of him, and another one, just below the surface. Marco’s brown jacket was splattered with blood. His face was sliced open, body bit almost perfectly in half. Instead of a floor, Marco sat in a pool of his own blood. Eren's heart crawled into his chest. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t ditch class!” Marco called after him. Eren’s words of warning died in his throat. How could he tell someone they were dying? Especially when they were perfectly fine. 

What was wrong with him? 

Eren’s shoulder collided with another. He took a step back, rubbing the skin that was sure to bruise. “Sorry!” A quiet voice spoke. 

In front of him, two of the school's most notorious athletes stood shoulder to shoulder. Bertholdt Hoover rubbed the back of his neck. He stood a foot taller than Eren. His dark shirt didn’t fit right around his shoulders. Though he was tall, Bert was lanky and thin. The combination was what made him the fastest runner on the track team. 

Next to him, Reiner Braun tossed a football between his hands. Reiner was the school's football captain, and he looked the part through and through. Built like a boulder, Reiner bragged he could break through any wall of players.

Break through a wall.

Something about the thought sparked rage in his stomach. He had no reason to hate either of them, but the urge to throttle the duo made his fingers twitch. Betrayal crept into his sternum. Eren suddenly craved a stick of gum - he needed something to chew on. 

“Hey, Eren. What’s up?” 

“Leave me alone,” Eren pushed past them, dying to get away. He knew he had a temper, but this feeling was unnatural. Scary, even for him. He’d never hated someone the way he hated the two of them. The feeling lay just below the surface like he was experiencing an old emotion, reopening a scab. 

He needed to get home. Normally the visions weren't this bad. Of course, it was today of all days, on his fifteenth birthday, they had to be debilitating. Eren could hardly think straight. A second cloud of judgment that wasn’t entirely his own blurred his thoughts.

He should ask his dad about it. The thought made him frown. Why? It wasn’t like Grisha was a doctor or anything.

Or was he?


End file.
